Scenes from an unwritten story 1
by vanhunks
Summary: JC: A blizzard. A cave. A dying fire. Two broken humans. Help me make it through the night. Warning: deep angst. Chakotay's POV.


Title: Scenes from an unwritten story (1) Author: vanhunks  
  
Contact: vanhunks @yahoo.com  
  
Web page:   
  
Series: VOY  
  
Part: New 1/1  
  
Rating: [PG-13]  
  
Codes: J/C  
  
Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all of its characters are the property of Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Summary: A blizzard. A cave. A dying fire. Two broken humans. Help me make it through the night. Warning: Deep angst.  
  
SCENES FROM AN UNWRITTEN STORY (1)  
  
Night had fallen. It was cold, so cold that his breath froze in the air; his tears, forced to brave the outside, turned to tiny icicles. He wanted to laugh at the way he brushed the ice from his face. He feared that: to open his mouth to laugh or to take in big gulps of air. He feared living dead, standing upright and becoming a part of an unmoving landscape. The image of himself standing open-mouthed as if death caught him midway in a thought or action or intent, brought on a bout of coughing. He chest burned. He had fractured ribs, of that he was certain. Else why would breathing cause such piercing pain? He tried to forget the pain and forget the anger and concentrate on beating the cold.  
  
Inside the cavern it was dark, the only light coming from a dying fire. His hands were uncovered, fingers numb, the marrow in his bones protesting at the unaccustomed exposure to the rage of winds. Once, he had looked back, but he couldn't see. He groaned as he lifted his hand to tap his commbadge.  
  
"Chakotay to Voyager..."  
  
He had tried a thousand times.  
  
Voyager was gone.. He suppressed a sneeze, felt his eardrums pop with the effort. Here, on the perimeter of the cave, it was as cold as it was inside. Somewhere at the back of he cave there was an opening. Gods! Wild torrents of misery rapped at him. He tasted his own blood, remains of a hundred blows to his face. He had stopped counting anyway. His face felt swollen and one tooth was loose. Wrapping his arms round him he turned into the darkness, stumbling as he negotiated his way through rocks and debris.  
  
The fire was low...alarmingly low. It had served its purpose. One purpose only.  
  
Keeping Kathryn warm.  
  
He shivered violently as he bent down. Very soon there would be no fire. She lay on her side, in a foetal position, shivering.  
  
"Will they come again?" she asked, her voice thin and feeble.  
  
He tried not to groan as he sat down and drew her to him so that she could rest her head against his shoulder. He was past the blinding anger, past wanting to gag at the sight of the woman they had thrown back in the cave. In a way he was glad it was dark. That way he didn't have to look at her again, and he didn't have to see the shame in her eyes.  
  
He was past his blinding anger. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Reason, let his head speak and think and plan their survival. They've been beaten, left to die after wanton destruction of their bodies.  
  
They had to get through the night. The night was young. Too many hours to count before Voyager arrived. The moon had wandered by, taken a look at the wreckage of two humans and, like a cowardly onlooker too detached to stop by and extend a helping hand, moved and hovered behind a cloud.  
  
"Will they come again?" Kathryn repeated her question. This time her voice sounded only marginally stronger.  
  
"No, they won't."  
  
"We'll die here, Chakotay," she said, her teeth chattering.  
  
"Now, Kathryn, I've not known you to contemplate a worse case scenario."  
  
"Is there anything better?" There was a sob in her voice.  
  
"In the morning you will see the sun rise."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Just keep fighting, you hear?" he urged her. "You're a fighter."  
  
"You - you saw my body..."  
  
There was a heavy pause that hung precariously, like an icicle forced by the wind to lose its grip and slowly, slowly breaking only to plunge to the ground. He had seen her body... How could he not? They had thrown it in here naked, the same way they had taken it out of the cave, torn her clothes off it as if it didn't have a life of its own...  
  
He had seen what Cardassians had done to their women prisoners...  
  
Kathryn had been so weak earlier. Earlier he had taken off his jacket and slipped her arms through it. She had not been aware that he had done it. Now he took her ice cold hand and covered it with his, wondering absently how that could make her warm.  
  
"There's too much against us. We'll die..."  
  
"Not if I can help it, Kathryn."  
  
The fire had almost died. No more wood. No more search outside... What he had found earlier, he found only after many hours. There was no more wood left. To venture outside now would mean certain death. He wanted to laugh again. Outside...inside... all the same. Yet here in the cave they had an outside chance of survival....  
  
Chakotay felt her raise her face to look at him. Only her eyes glowed. He compressed his lips and had to remember again that he was past his anger. They had to get through the night. Kathryn's eyes looked wild, her hair...  
  
Don't go there, Chakotay. Tread not the threshold of your pain.  
  
Who would listen to the human's cry for help? Alone in an alien wilderness with only savages that roamed the country, devouring everything in their path? They had left Kathryn mercifully alive.  
  
But Kathryn's eyes had died.  
  
God, her hair...beautiful, glorious, golden brown hair... Jagged, uneven, wild, like her eyes. They didn't spare her. Chakotay tried not to groan as she moved, for his ribs ached like they were on fire in the cold. Her lips were dry; he had melted some of the ice earlier for her, soaked her torn jacket in the water and allowed her to suck, like a baby. She had been thirsty and she had not once looked at him while she drank from the water. Her body bore long cuts, battered, bruised, her breasts mutilated. One of her ribs had to be broken because she had cried out once when she breathed in too deeply. There was nothing, no medication, nothing left of the shuttle. They had ejected in time before it exploded into a million pieces. Shot out of the air... They had been sitting ducks.  
  
Like a cat Kathryn's eyes glowed as she looked at him. Sunken eyes, parched lips, torn skin, legs...thighs...  
  
He had been careful when he dressed her, pulling her pants gently over her battered legs. She had cried out when he finally got her turtleneck back on. Later when her jacket was dry from the late fire, he had pulled that on too, and on top of that, his own. Kathryn was almost paralysed in the first hour, her body like a rag doll. He pulled her gently as close to the dying fire as it was possible. It wasn't much help in the raging blizzard that seemed to claw its way into the cave and grab at their defenceless bodies, but it was better than nothing.  
  
Kathryn lay against him, her face nudging into him, seeking more warmth. There were no tears. That had surprised him. Maybe, if he allowed himself to think beyond the ice and freezing cold and the blinding rage, he could reason that the trauma was too great for her to weep. He could reason that shock left her bereft of any emotion, not even fear. He could reason that sometime, when the trauma and shock left her body, it would be replaced by the reality, reliving the... He sighed. All Kathryn did was breathe in shallow gasps, turning her face away from him as he dressed her.  
  
He was forced to looked at her body.  
  
Think past the blinding anger. Think past the need to kill the men who tossed her around, played roulette with her...  
  
"It's over now, Kathryn... Rest. I'll keep you warm..."  
  
He pulled her closer as the cold rushed from the entrance. Kathryn shuddered violently. His raised his hand and placed a palm against her cheek. She was losing body heat...  
  
"It's cold..."  
  
The night was still young... Voyager still so far away... Ambushed, led on a wild goose chase... Captain and First officer left stranded...  
  
Leave your troubles behind and go forward... Voyager will come and then it will be warm again.  
  
"I will make you whole again, Kathryn," his words filled the cave.  
  
She didn't answer. Her arms clamped tighter round him, her body boring against him, searching, searching for more heat.  
  
There was no more.  
  
No more heat.  
  
He let Kathryn lie down again. He was concerned at the creeping lethargy, wanting to kick himself for causing her more discomfort even if only for a few seconds. Then he removed his socks and pulled it over Kathryn's feet. He pulled off his turtleneck, bloodied from Kathryn's blood, and pushed it under the two jackets. Kathryn shuddered and cried out in pain. He swore. There were deep open bite marks on her breasts...  
  
"I'm so sorry...forgive me. Soon you'll have no pain, you hear me?"  
  
"Aye, sir..." Kathryn managed to quip.  
  
"Good. Just one more minute, okay?" he said, as he quickly pulled off his own trousers and put it on for her." It was longer than a minute but he was gratified when Kathryn gave a little sigh. She was now warmer. He touched her lips briefly; they were still ice cold. If he could see her face, her lips would be blue. He watched with detachment how the last embers finally died.  
  
He shivered violently from the cold blasts against his exposed skin. He was naked save for his boxers. Yet, he pulled Kathryn against him and held her close, shielding her from the wind that crept in. For a very long time they sat like that and waited for morning to come. Occasionally, words drifted to him.  
  
"They were animals."  
  
"Forgive me, Kathryn, that I couldn't save you."  
  
"They beat you up."  
  
How long had he been unconscious?  
  
"Still, I should have fought harder."  
  
He knew without a doubt that he would live with the guilt for the rest of his life.  
  
"I kept thinking of you, that you were somewhere waiting, that you'd be there to comfort me."  
  
"I vowed to protect you..."  
  
"You are protecting me now. You are comforting me now."  
  
Then there was a long silence. Kathryn's body became warmer, more languid. His cupped her cheek.  
  
"Don't go, Chakotay."  
  
"Where must I go, Kathryn?"  
  
"Where you were right now."  
  
"I don't know what you mean. I'm right here, with you."  
  
"Will they come again?" she asked. The savages were gone, he was sure of that.  
  
"Voyager? Of course."  
  
He was glad that she talked, that her voice didn't drift away. He wanted to cry out from the freezing cold. His skin became tight. He was stiff from lack of movement, but Kathryn needed to stay warm. Then he just pulled her closer, caressed her jagged hair. Strange how she never recoiled when he held her like that. One day, when he could think straight, he might want to consider Kathryn's faith in him. Now, he couldn't think of those things. They had to get through the night.  
  
Kathryn dozed off and woke later with a scream, a long hollow wail that filled the cave with its dread. Kathryn's arms were flailing; in her nightmare she tried to ward off her attackers.  
  
"No more...no more..."  
  
"Shhh... I'm here, Kathryn..."  
  
"Please...stop..."  
  
"I'm here, Kathryn. Just listen to my voice. Shhh..."  
  
Then the flailing stopped. Kathryn stilled.  
  
"C-Chakotay?"  
  
"No...I will not hurt you; I will never hurt you."  
  
He pulled her into his arms again. Tears soaked into her hair. He heard Kathryn's cries, the wracking sobs that tore from her frail body. They cried together. At last Kathryn's sobbing subsided. She became quiet again, though she didn't speak again.  
  
He thought she was sleeping.  
  
"Kathryn...?"  
  
Only the way her head moved indicated that she was still awake, although he knew that lethargy was setting in.  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Keep awake, please..."  
  
"T-Try..."  
  
"No, don't try. Just do it, Kathryn..."  
  
Then it was quiet again. Kathryn's body was beginning to warm his body too. He could feel the warmth slowly seeping into him. Then it felt the heat was right inside him. It was good... It felt good. He gave a deep sigh.  
  
A deep sigh...  
  
When he opened his eyes, everything around him was white, not just the bright light of day, but bright daylight, so white that he blinked several times. Did his eyes bounce off the silvery white landscape? All around him it was beautiful as far as the eye could see.  
  
Where was he? In a dream?  
  
He heard his name called. From afar it sounded, as if it came across an ocean, drifting on soft clouds and dissipating as the clouds reached him. Then only the echo of his name sounded. He peered into the distance, for it seemed something was moving towards him. It shimmered like a mirage, and the mirage came closer, ever closer. Yet, he did not take his eyes off the mirage. It began to take shape, human form. He didn't want to look away lest it disappeared.  
  
Again he heard his name called, drifting over the ocean on clouds to him.  
  
The figure stopped. It had the saddest eyes he ever saw. The man had dimples like his own. He wore a wide-brimmed hat.  
  
"Father?"  
  
"Welcome home, my son."  
  
****  
  
END 


End file.
